


if i could make you the enemy, i would

by eversall



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 08:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8048617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eversall/pseuds/eversall
Summary: This is Simon’s beginning, the one both he and Raphael are there to witness –Magnus drains Simon’s body of blood, and Raphael brings his wrist to Simon’s screaming mouth. Simon drinks and drinks and drinks from Raphael, and every crack and crevice of his body fills with diffused warmth that’s as close to sunlight as he’ll ever get. It’s good enough for now. It’s good enough for eternity.





	if i could make you the enemy, i would

**Author's Note:**

> idk this has been sitting in my files for a while now. it's got me being fake deep and stuff. yay. most of this - like, ninety percent - was all written whenever i was having a bad day, but it's got a happy ending, i promise.
> 
> title taken from the enemy by andrew belle.

(There’s a story of a disgraced king his mother used to tell him when he was younger. The king, she whispered, had many noble warriors. The warriors loved the king, and the king loved the warriors. But, as all things do, the king’s time came to an end.)

“Why do things end?” Raphael had asked.

“Nothing lasts forever.” His mother had whispered to him. “Everything has a beginning, so everything must also have an end.”

.

The beginning is this –

Raphael, blood dripping from his mouth, his hair hanging lank in his face, looking at the faint sunlight and thinking  -

 _This is the end_.

.

“You,” Magnus says sometime in the nineties, “don’t know how to _live_.”

“I’m not alive.” Raphael says flatly. Magnus rolls his eyes.

“Don’t argue _English_ with me.” The warlock says. “You know what I mean.”

“I _do_.” Raphael smirks. “I also know that I have bigger things to worry about right now then going to your stupid party.”

“Like _what_?” Magnus whines.

“My clan?” Raphael says incredulously. “You know, the only thing I’ve been talking about for the past hour?”

“Mmm.” Magnus waves a hand lazily. “I didn’t save you so I could have an uninteresting son. Why aren’t you interested in the things I like?” he pouts.

“I go shopping with you all the time.” Raphael says, unbelievingly. Then he pauses. “I am _not_ your son.” He adds. Magnus is silent for a while, rolling his eyes and fussing with his sleeves.

“I just want to know that you’re happy.” Magnus finally says.

.

Simon’s beginning, whether he knows it or not, is this –

Camille overhears some werewolves talking about Clarissa Fairchild and the Mortal Cup. She grins, predatory and sweet all at the same time. Raphael feels sick. Camille will take the chance of the Nephilim killing one of her vampires for the opportunity to have the girl.

Then they catch the pleasant scent of Simon Lewis, and Raphael feels sick for another reason.

.

Raphael walks into the lounge and _freezes_ at the sight of Simon Lewis’ dead body.

“No.” he mutters, because this can’t be happening. He has flashbacks to clawing himself out of the dark earth, and he groans.

“No.” he says again, helplessly, even as he gathers the boy up in his arms.

.

When Simon rips into the plastic bags, drenching himself in blood, Raphael smiles like a maniac. What else is he supposed to do? He hasn’t felt anything like this in his long life, and the part of him that’s selfish and a _vampire_ is bright with excitement because _finally_. He has a chance with this boy.

The part of him that’s a Catholic, that’s his mother’s responsible son – the part he’s kept alive through scars and pain – weeps for the Jewish boy whose eyes are wild and unsettling without glasses.

 _Yes_ he thinks, because Simon is a monster but whose idea was it that all monsters are bad?

.

Simon’s beginning, the one he knows, is this –

He walks through the door of the DuMort and the tension in his shoulders dissipates minutely.

“Relieved to be home?” Raphael asks. He’s _trying_ to be gentle, but gentle doesn’t come easy to him, so he’s not surprised when his voice is colored with sarcasm.

What does surprise him is Simon’s little half-smile as he says. “Yeah. I am.” Raphael looks at him curiously, and Simon shrugs his shoulders, a jerky, uncoordinated movement. Raphael winces. His vampires are _graceful_.

“Uh, I guess rescuing Meliorn made me realize the difference between Downworlders and Shadowhunters? Like, don’t get me wrong, it’s stupid“- Raphael snorts because _stupid_ is putting it mildly - “but I’m more like Meliorn than I am like Clary now.”

Raphael doesn’t say anything to that until he shows Simon to his room.

“You _are_ still a human, even if you’re a dead one.” he explains, and Simon looks at him like he’s seeing Raphael for the first time.

.

Simon has his hand over his mouth when Raphael walks into the communal gym at the DuMort in sweatpants and a tank top.

“I’ve already gone through puberty once, this isn’t fair.” He mumbles through his fangs when Raphael raises an eyebrow at him.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be thinking of sex all the time.” Raphael says, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly despite himself.

“Doesn’t everyone?” Simon asks, sighing, and Raphael feels a flash of something uncomfortable settle in his stomach. _Only around you_ , he wants to say, but it feels wrong.

.

(When the king’s time came to an end, a different king came to the throne. This king demanded the love of the warriors, but they would do nothing but lament the loss of the old king. The new king was full of grief, because he had thought that the warriors would love him the way he was prepared to love them.)

.

“Clary asked me to be her date!” Simon announces the second he drops into a chair across from Raphael.

“That’s nice.” Raphael says, ignoring him, until the words catch up to him. “Wait – a date? With _you_?” Simon makes a face at him.

“Not _a_ date. She wants me to go to Alec’s wedding as her date.”  Raphael frowns. Magnus told him about the Lightwood boy and Lydia Branwell. He’s tempted to prohibit Simon from going – partly because he feels like he owes it to Magnus to show as little support as possible for this wedding, and sending the New York vampire clan’s _advisor_ is definitely showing support, if only politically. But mostly, he doesn’t want to let the redheaded girl put her hands all over Simon.

“Fine.” He says, despite everything in him screaming _no_. He really has no claim on this boy’s romantic involvements, and frankly this is all embarrassing behavior for him. “But you’ll wear one of my suits.”

He expects Simon to argue, but Simon only lights up like going through Raphael’s closet is a dream come true.

“Finally,” Simon announces, “I’ll get to see if Raphael Santiago really does have any normal clothes.” Raphael smothers a laugh behind his hand.

.

(What did the king do?

 _The king banished his warriors into exile_.

How cruel!

 _No. He sent them away to where they would be happy, to a happiness they would never take for themselves, a happiness he could never give to them_.)

.

“I can still feel her teeth.” Simon says to him one day, shaking. Raphael pauses from where he’s playing the piano.

“How did you find me?” he asks cautiously. Simon doesn’t even seem to register the question, instead falling into the room and stumbling over to slide onto the piano bench next to Raphael.

“They scrape over my skin, and – my blood, painting the floor – red as her _lips_ – “ Simon trips and fumbles over the words racing to get out from under his skin. Raphael doesn’t have a heartbeat, but he imagines he can feel something thudding in his chest as the fledgling scrubs a hand across his face.

“It will pass.” He says firmly.

“Will it?” Simon asks hysterically. Raphael gives him a look.

“Do you think we’ve all survived for this long like that?” Raphael asks.

“How long will it take?” Simon retorts, and Raphael doesn’t answer. He turns back to the piano and resumes playing. Simon doesn’t say another word; he listens.

.

“Camille’s alive, isn’t she?” Simon asks point-blank. Raphael looks at the motley crew behind him, the four Nephilim and Magnus. The tall one’s wearing white and gold, but Raphael’s assuming the wedding didn’t happen.

“I can’t kill her.” Raphael says softly. “It’ll kill you.” Simon moves so fast Raphael doesn’t see him coming, pinning Raphael to the wall and baring his fangs at him.

“ _You know what she did to me!_ ” Simon bellows.

“Simon!” Magnus calls, his fingers twirling agitatedly with blue sparks. “Let him go.”

“It’s a pity you learned to use your fledgling strength _now_ of all times.” Raphael says, because he’s vicious and he doesn’t know how _not_ to be.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees all the Nephilim have their hands on their seraph blades. The archer has an arrow pointed at Raphael’s throat.

“Simon.” Raphael says warningly. Simon doesn’t seem to hear him, eyes staring unseeingly at Raphael’s throat. “ _Simon_.” He says again, lower, more urgent.

Simon abruptly releases him and sags against Raphael, emotionally wrung out. Raphael catches him and lets Simon weep quietly against his shoulder.

.

(What did the warriors do? They left, because they were banished. But with the passage of time, they trickled back in – through trickery and deceit, through hard work and hard-earned honors.

Some things are tied together, more irreversible than the swell of rains over parched lands. Some things are meant to break together, to bend together, and to rejoin in the rush of victory.)

.

“I don’t want Camille’s blood in me.” Simon says. “I don’t want a single drop of it in me.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” Raphael protests, weakly.

“I do.” Simon says, fierce. He bares his neck to Raphael, subtly. But purposeful. “I always have.”

.

“Simon, _no_.” Clary says, and Simon feels like all Clary says these days is _no_. “There has to be another way.”

“Besides me crawling out of my own skin?” Simon laughs bitterly.

“You can’t be _his_ either. You’re going to go from being under Camille’s control to being under his?” she hisses to him. Raphael doesn’t say anything, his face carefully blank.

“There’s nothing wrong with _him_.” Simon says.

“Magnus.” Clary says pleadingly, turning around. “Isn’t there any other blood he could have?” Magnus shifts and looks distinctly uncomfortable, throwing a pleading look Raphael’s way.

“Technically, Simon’s blood can be replenished by _anyone_ , I guess.” The warlock says slowly. “He’ll still be a vampire no matter what.”

“Take mine.” Clary says immediately, turning to Simon. “Take mine. You can be _free_ , Simon.”

“No thanks.” Simon steps past her to stand by Raphael. “I’m a _vampire_ , Clary. He’s my leader. I trust him with my life.”

.

“Nephilim blood will make you stronger.” Raphael says to Simon when they have a moment alone. Magnus is in the next room, preparing for the sire transfer, conversing in low tones with the Lightwood boy.

“You don’t want to give me your blood anymore?” Simon asks, his face falling.

“No – I – the point is, if you want to be connected to your Shadowhunter friend instead of me, I won’t take offense.” Raphael grits out, every word costing him dearly. 

“You probably will.” Simon remarks, staring at him intently. “And I’ve always been at Clary’s beck and call, all my life. I’d rather be blood bound to someone who won’t misuse that power, whether intentionally or not.”

.

“You must be extraordinarily sure of this, Simon.” Magnus says to him, magic sparking at his fingertips. “This will take _everything_ from you.”

“I am.” Simon says confidently. He’s looking at Raphael. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”

“This isn’t a joke, vampire.” Alec speaks up from where he’s standing with his weapon ready. “If this doesn’t work, we’ll lose control of you. Everyone in this room _will_ die.”

“And yet you’re still here.” Simon says, turning his gaze to Alec.

“You know why.” Alec responds, jerking his head at Magnus. Simon responds by flashing a quick glance at Raphael.

“Then you understand why I’m here too.” Simon says.

.

This is what Alec sees –

Magnus, his eyes glowing and his hands sparking, calling up demons and commanding them left and right as if they’re playthings. Magnus, standing tall, Magnus, the half-demon, Magnus, channeling enough power to change what Simon is.

He thinks he’s never been more in love.

.

Simon writhes in agony. There’s a molten heat in him, similar to an orgasm, except it’s stabbing through his skin in little pinpricks of pain. He’s cresting wave after wave of torturous intent, his body turned inside out and remade in Raphael’s image. His skin is being flayed open, he _screams_ –

“I can’t be saved.” Simon gasps out during a lucid moment. There’s bloody strips of flesh where his wrists should be, fighting against the shackles pinning him in place. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

“Patently untrue.” Magnus says calmly. His cat-eyes glow fiercely in Simon’s hazy vision. “You can be.”

“You will be.” Raphael adds.

.

“Let her out.” Simon says. Lily glances at Stan who glances at Rory who –

“Let her out.” Raphael repeats. The chains on the coffin shake. Magnus takes a step back into Alec, and Alec places a hand on the warlock’s back, steadying him without quite knowing why he needs steadying.

They let her out.

.

This is Simon’s beginning, the one both he and Raphael are there to witness –

Magnus drains Simon’s body of blood, and Raphael brings his wrist to Simon’s screaming mouth. Simon drinks and drinks and drinks from Raphael, and every crack and crevice of his body fills with diffused warmth that’s as close to sunlight as he’ll ever get. It’s good enough for now. It’s good enough for eternity.

And Raphael? He can feel the fledgling’s presence at the edge of his mind, a steady thrum of a heart that no longer beats, the beautiful monotony of _I’m here with you I’m here with you I’m here –_

.

“Is this my welcoming party?” Camille purrs when she’s let out. Simon slams her to the ground.

“Where’s the book?” he snarls. Raphael leans against the wall and stares at Camille squirming on the floor.

“Oh, my little caramel, isn’t that precious?” she asks, looking between Raphael and Simon even as Simon closes his fingers around her throat. “You’re doing Raphael’s dirty work. Tell me, how long was he clan leader for before you became his bitch?”

Neither Simon nor Raphael gets the chance to respond to that, because Camille is buoyed into the air by a swirling blue fog, screaming all the while. Raphael pulls Simon back as Magnus walks forward, calm save for the blazing fury of his eyes.

“You don’t get to talk about that.” Magnus says, anger laced through every word. Camille scrabbles uselessly at her throat, and Simon realizes she’s being slowly choked to death. “You don’t _ever_ get to interfere with love again.”

.

The book is hidden in Camille’s apartment. Magnus ends up extracting the location of it from a memory demon.

Camille escapes, once, and gets as far as sinking her claws into Simon’s chest. He staggers back, feeling the weight of five points around his heart. He thinks of five-point stars, then six-point stars, then the Star of David. There’s some sort of twisted symbolism in there that he doesn’t want to pursue.

Raphael is there before Simon can do anything more than push Camille off, and then he feeds Camille to the memory demon.

“I can’t believe I loved her once.” Magnus says, once the demon’s been sent back.  Alec scuffs his boot over the chalk on the floor.

“I can.” He says confidently. “There’s nothing wrong with it. Everyone has horrible exes.”

“Amen to that.” Izzy mutters, and everyone laughs, and whatever spell everyone was under is broken as they all move and talk and laugh.

But Simon’s standing there, something like _hope_ filling his veins, and it feels like dawn slipping away and being replaced by a dazzling sun.

.

This is Simon and Raphael’s beginning, _together_ –

Raphael sweeps Simon up in his arms and kisses him. Simon pushes back against him, bites at his lower lip, and curls his fingers in Raphael’s hair, pulling, eliciting a gasp.

The room falls silent, and Magnus wolf-whistles.

“ _Oh_.” Clary says, like she’s had a revelation. Simon glances back at her, out of habit, and she waggles her eyebrows at him. He blushes and buries his face in Raphael’s neck.

“You couldn’t have done this in _private_?” he mumbles.

“I’m saving something else for _private_.” Raphael hisses back, voice pitched low enough that even the Shadowhunters can’t pick up on it. Simon raises an eyebrow.

“Great, okay, found what we needed, party’s over, everyone _get out_.” Simon says, turning and making a shooing motion.

“I need a few hours to gather ingredients anyway.” Magnus says, cackling.

.

Safely ensconced in Raphael’s room, Raphael pulls Simon forward and bares his neck, subtly. But purposeful.

“Drink.” He says, his voice soft and lazy. Simon’s eyes widen and he lowers his head, kissing Raphael’s neck reverently.

“And to you, I promise myself.” He whispers, and Raphael has _no idea_ who taught him the promise oath, but he’ll take whatever romantic notion Simon wants to recreate.

“Don’t tease.” He says, before Simon bites him gently, his fangs piercing through Raphael’s skin and leaving him with a breathless sensation. There’s a moment of nothing but Simon’s mouth sucking at Raphael’s skin, heady and intoxicating, and then the endorphins crash into Raphael all at once. He moans loudly, and Simon shoves a thigh between Raphael’s legs as if he knows _exactly_ what kind of effect this is going to elicit from Raphael.

They’re rather _occupied_ for the three hours Magnus gathers ingredients.

.

_To you, I promise myself_

Five years later – after Valentine, after everything  - Raphael says those words again. It’s not the first time he’s said them, but this time he and Simon are in suits, there are rings on their hands, and they’ve said vows to each other.

 _I’m gonna be your forever man_ , Simon says, ridiculous as ever, even in front of all these people _, and our love is going to be, much like us, immortal. You make the world bright and warm. Your smile will be my treasure for the rest of my life._

 _I’ve never known love until I met you_. Raphael says simply. _You are the only one for me._

This time, the promise oath is sealed with a kiss, and with Magnus raining glitter and confetti down on their heads.

And _this_ is the beginning that Simon and Raphael not only remember, but _cherish_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> come prompt me on [ tumblr ](http://eversall.tumblr.com/)
> 
> the legend i talk about is one my mom told me a long time ago. i don't know if it's mostly true or mostly made up, but it's something i like to think about.


End file.
